The Story of King Levi
by RMB27
Summary: The Kingdom of Freedom was formed by a man, King Garret, the Powerful, with formidable walls and a hardcore militia, it seemed that he had everything under control. That is, until a mangled body appeared before the outer wall with unexplained large bite marks. Levi, a young man who had been secretly planning for the King's demise since the beginning, will now make his move.
1. Prolouge

A:N/ It's here! I've decided to begin new story revolving around "what ifs"! I hope you guys will enjoy this story as much as I loved writing and planning it! Shout out to the best editor ever, tumblr un: humanities-strongest-duo!

It's going to be a long ride!

* * *

A burdened man stood atop of the world the night before his rebellion. His handsome face remained apathetic amidst the stress that he would face the moment the sun would brighten the sky. Though of a short stature and unexpressive nature, he was due to be king at any moment. His biceps flexed as he swung his sword around meticulously, his dark blue eyes narrowing at the thought of slicing the King's neck. With a powerful strike of the wall beneath him, he felt satisfaction to feel the stone below him tremble slightly.

The formidable walls always bothered him since the moment he could remember setting his narrowed gaze on them. Their tough, cracked exterior that spanned widely across the sparse land that their damn king called "The Protectors of Freedom" was hideous to stare at, to say the least. People would always point out the grassy hills that complimented the setting sun or the moonlit rivers that shone during the starry nights—but no, he never had time to pay attention to those trivial things. It was the same shit every damn day; he might as well have just stayed underground, the very reason being that the air was no different.

It was stagnant and confined. He shook his head in dismay at the thought of it and he gripped his swords, tightly. As he stood on top of these walls, comparing the view of life and the view of desolation, a hooded figure appeared at his side from the shadows, kneeling as soon as he faced his leader's back.

"My lord," The hooded figure greeted, "We have everything set up according to plan." The hooded figure looked up in askance of what to do next and was greeted by the gloved hand of his leader, "Stand up. Also, how many times have I told you not to call me that, Erwin? It's Levi. Not some asshole of a title."

Erwin, finally revealing his face, let out a slight chuckle with a sheepish grin as he rubbed the back of his neck, "You _are_ going to be the king in a matter of moments. I might as well start naming you with high praise."

"No, those are _asshole_ titles, Erwin. Don't fight me on that." Levi scoffed as he sheathed his swords back into the 3DMG with a swift movement. He turned to Erwin, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, "Let's go."

Erwin slightly bowed and smiled, "As you wish, Levi."

* * *

The dawning sun was brightening the sky warmly as Grisha stood before his late wife's grave in silence. He adjusted his glasses out of habit as he tried to put his conflicting thoughts into words, "Carla…I…I wish I could've had more time." He finally managed to spit out; his hands began to tremble as he curled them into fists.

"It's been fifteen years and I still haven't found a solution, damn it." Grisha cursed under his breath, not wanting to disrespect his wife's grave, but he smiled, slightly, at the memory of her scolding tone and the warmth of her hand as she would playfully hit him.

It had only been five years since she passed away, but it felt like an eternity due to the recent circumstances.

Grisha bent down to face the headstone directly, his arms placed on his bent knees as he put his hands over his mouth in deep thought, "There are rumors of an uprising against the throne. Can you believe it? After all these years, there's finally an uprising. But you know what this means, don't you, Carla?" Grisha mumbled as he watched the light reflect on her headstone, dancing.

Years and years of research and it had been completely and utterly useless. The sacrifices and the warfare… was it worth it at this point?

He reached into his pocket, feeling the familiar contraption which had bothered him his whole life, "It's time, Carla, and-"

The abrupt sound of a trumpet interrupted him and Grisha immediately stood up, his eyes wide in panic, he gripped the item in his pocket, hard, and turned to Carla's headstone one last time.

His heart reaching a resolve at the memories that resurfaced in his mind—the sound of Carla's laugh, Mikasa's scolding, and Eren's cries. He closed his eyes, trying to relish in the peaceful moment he had for once in his whole entire life.

He opened his eyes in a flash, all traces of remorse and uncertainty gone, replaced with determination. It was time.

"I'll be back, Carla. There's some unfinished business I have yet to attend to." He apologized before breaking into run towards the forest.

* * *

"You can't fight me on this decision, Mikasa!" Eren yelled, his face conflicted with anger and desperation, "I want to support the cause! A better government for the people, Mikasa! Don't you see? I can fight with these hands!" He shook his angered fists in front of her face to reinforce his statement.

Mikasa fought the urge to desperately wring her brother's neck and beg him to listen to her. He was being ridiculously motivated for something that could end his life in an instant. Their mother wouldn't let him go in the first place, so why should she? She _promised_ Carla she wouldn't let Eren get into trouble. She tightened her fists and gritted her teeth, _If only he knew…_

She grabbed his hands, forcing him to face her, and aimed to look desperate and saddened. He can't fight. He wasn't as strong as the king's army and he would just be rampaging like all of the ones who dared to fight with no skill.

Eren seemed to feel something in her hands and he turned her palms upward, immediately, before she could stop him. Her eyes darkened and her heart began to beat, rapidly, as she watched his eyes critically scan her bandaged hands, but she thoughtof a distraction, fast, knowing she couldn't lie, and began to beg, loudly.

"Listen, Eren, Mom wouldn't want you to go asking for a death wish!" Mikasa pleaded, her darkened onyx eyes trying to search his determined green ones, but to no avail. Eren pushed her hands away as he shook his head, grabbing his jacket and tugging his hood on.

When it seemed as if the stream of her bad luck couldn't widen or stretch any further, both of their heads whipped around to the direction of the sound of a trumpet blaring in the distance.

"You're not going to stop me, Mikasa. If Dad asks where I am, tell him I'm fighting for our freedom." He stated, coldly, and before she knew it, the door had opened and closed with a loud bang that rumbled the walls and her sanity.

Her eyes widened and she muttered curses under her breath as she ran to her room. He would come back after he cooled off, Eren was simple like that.

That and there were other things she had to attend to.

Rummaging under her bed, Mikasa pulled out her 3DMG and rebel uniform and began to quickly dress herself. The trumpet sounding was no drill this time, she could feel the sense of danger pumping throughout her body.

_Damn it, I can't use my 3DMG. It would attract unwanted attention._ _Guess I have to run it, shit. _

Finally re-wrapping her scarred neck with her red muffler, she stared at herself in the mirror, blankly, "Same shit, different day, remember that, Mikasa," She chided her reflection, softly. She pulled on the back of her uniform, revealing a hood that would conceal half her face.

With one last look to the bright sky, Mikasa pulled on her hood and ran.

* * *

Ayane cursed loudly as she bumped into someone's shoulder in the busy marketplace. She got up, quickly, bowing in apology, to which the young man excused her willingly upon seeing her face.

"O-Oh, it's no big deal! Might I add that you're rather pretty—"Ayane tuned the man out as she glanced behind her back, noticing dark figures that were still hiding amidst the carts. She cursed, inwardly, wondering if she could use this man as a distraction, but she shook her head to rid herself of the thought.

_I can't have any victims._

"And would you like to—"

Ayane silenced him with a muttered apology as she began to move past him and conceal herself within the confines of the crowd. Successfully hidden, Ayane shifted her cloak, slightly, revealing her 3DMG was connected and ready for use.

_Damn it. I can't use it here though. I have to find a place where there's no civilization. _

Ayane eyed her surroundings, pushing her body through the crowd, and that's when she located the forest bordering the outskirts of the marketplace. But before she could run towards the place, a gloved hand covered her mouth and brutally pushed her against a column in a dark corner, away from public view.

As soon as the figure let her mouth free, she kneed him in the groin, smiling as she heard a satisfying thump and a loud groan elicited from her actions. Turning him around, she shoved her foot on his back, grinding his whole body into the mud, and grabbed his right arm and twisted it, earning the beautiful sound of his bones cracking.

"Who sent you?," she hissed, commanding and impatient, "If you decide to lie to me, I will personally find out and send them your head as a warning."

The man moaned his defeat and she gladly took her foot off of him and turned him around, grabbing him by his collar and shoving him up against the column where he had her moments ago, "Looks like the roles have switched, huh?" She hummed, sarcastically, pulling the man off his feet, cutting off all circulation as he began to choke. His words were of a pleading manner and she dropped him to the ground.

"Speak." She commanded, crossing her arms, as she placed a leather boot on top of his crotch in warning.

"T-The King ordered me to make sure you do your job." The man explained, quickly, his hands up in defense as Ayane's multi-colored orbs stared at him, "Please, your eyes, Ma'am." He tried to shield his gaze and Ayane tilted her head in confusion before letting out a scoff, noticing the puddle beneath his trembling arse.

"Just because I have different colored eyes doesn't mean I'm a fucking monster, you asshole." She hissed, stomping her foot on his genitals, tired of his smelly piss reeking.

"Go tell the king that everything is going according to plan and that I don't need a babysitter. Got it?"

The man nodded, quickly, and she kicked him out of the dark corner and leaned on the column, watching the shitty excuse of a man run mad. But, she touched her face, softly, her plump lips frowning. Immediately, she shook her head and made her way to the forest, grateful for the tall trees as she pulled the trigger on her 3DMG and heard the swishing sound of the wires going off as she flew towards the wall.

* * *

Eren found himself lost. Again.

_Damn trees all look the same._

Frustrated, he shook his head and tried to retrace his steps while thinking of his past fight with Mikasa. She, of all people, should understand why he wanted to join the rebels. She knew what _really_ happened to their mom. The sound of his mother's anguish pleadings combined with the sharp beatings as hooded figures with the King's insignia on their jackets surrounded her haunted him to this day. His father had been away, treating his patients, just like any other day.

Mikasa had been the one to grab a club and hit one of them while tears streamed down her face at the sight of their mother's unconscious body lying there. The gruff men grabbed Mikasa's neck and had thrown her against the wall. Eren had seen enough and remembered the gun that his father always had in his desk. Running as fast as he could, he grabbed it and shot the pitiful men who begged for their lives.

With no remorse, a ten year-old Eren killed them.

Gritting his teeth and punching a tree trunk, Eren let out a loud yell of frustration, scaring the birds that hid in the green leaves.

"Eren…?" The sound of his father's voice startled him and Eren turned to face his father, surprised.

"Dad? Hey, what are you doing here?" Eren's trembling voice didn't seem to hint at his run away from home as Grisha walked towards him, calmly. Eren's eyes clouded with confusion as he watched his father take something out of his pocket and place it in his opposite hand.

"Where's Mikasa?" Grisha asked normally, as if he wasn't trying to hide something behind his back, but Eren took it as a sign that his father hadn't gone home first to the hysterical Mikasa, so he relaxed.

_Good, Dad doesn't know that I'm joining the rebels yet._

"She's at home. I told her I wanted some fresh air." Eren explained, quickly, cursing himself for his lack of control over his emotions.

Grisha raised an eyebrow, stopping a few feet away from Eren, "The trumpet sounded, Eren. I know where you're going."

Eren gulped and his green eyes widened. He dropped down to his knees, grabbing his father's pants in a pleading fashion, "Dad, please, I want to join the battle. Please let me avenge Mom. I need to avenge Mom. I need to avenge this whole damn nation! They killed her. I know they did."

Grisha bent down to meet his son's eye level, his free hand brushing the tears away from Eren's cheeks, "I know, son. That's why I'm here."

Before Eren could blink, his father had pinned him down, grabbing his arm, and Eren eyed the contraption in his father's hand. A syringe?

"Dad! Wait-what are you-?!"

Eren felt the needle's sharpness prick his skin and the feel of the mysterious liquid slither into his veins, sending a weird sensation throughout his body. His vision was beginning to grow hazy and his father's voice was becoming more and more like the sound of a far-off dream.

"Eren, Eren, I'm sorry, I really am."

_Dad? Are you crying? Why? What's going on?_

"I love you, son. Your mom and I will always love you. Take care of Mikasa, okay? Both of you need to take care of each other."

_Wait… what's going on? Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?_

The sound of an army's terrifying roar and of his father's loud cry of pain was the last thing Eren could register before the darkness shrouded his senses and threw him into complete oblivion.

* * *

Mikasa could feel the adrenaline pumping into her veins right on time. The heaviness of her gear was welcoming to her as she flew in the air, lightly jumping from tree to tree. Her leather boots not even making a sound, she felt pride as she began to unsheathe her swords. As her raven hair danced with the wind, Mikasa's mind wandered back to the fight she had with Eren and her heart tightened.

He wasn't a fighter. He never trained in martial arts, swordplay, or even the basic necessities of defending yourself.

He wasn't like her.

Whipping one of her swords in front of her, she glanced at her blurry reflection within the swords, noticing the small scratches and dents that had formed over the years.

"_Mikasa, your stance needs to be straighter! Discipline your body to take the pain. Your scars should be your trophies."_

Closing her eyes at the childhood memories that had been becoming more vivid lately, Mikasa landed on top of a high tree branch for a moment, pausing to open her hands and examine the thin, white lines that had appeared over the years.

"_But, father, what am I training for?"_

She was only ten when Grisha Jaeger revealed to her her special circumstances. She knew she had been adopted the moment she could tell the difference between her smooth, pale skin to Eren's patchy, dark skin and how her eyes slightly narrowed while his eyes were as round as the moon.

She had frozen in shock when she watched her adopted mother die in front of her. Grisha had found her crying alone in the kitchen as she took it all in and tended to Eren's unconscious body. He took her hands and patted her head and looked her straight in the eye, "Don't cry. For what's the use of crying? Next time, Mikasa, fight. Fighting is the only option you will ever have in this world."

She remembered clenching her tiny fists in determination and nodding, thinking of how utterly helpless she felt as she simply watched them kill her precious mother, "I want to fight."

The months after that, Mikasa had trained under his tutelage, watching and sparring. She had excelled in everything he had thrown at her, but one day, he had pulled her aside and sat her down in a very serious manner.

Grisha had given her a sharp, proud nod, "Can you promise something for me, Mikasa?"

Mikasa nodded, slowly, noticing the clear determination forming in his eyes.

"Eren must not know anything. Understood? You must protect him at all costs, but whatever you do, don't tell him that you're—"

Mikasa abruptly shut her mind down, not wanting to remember who she really was at that very moment, her eyes glued to her target among the forest where those detestable walls lay ahead.

"_War, Mikasa, you're training for war."_

* * *

A:N/ Hope you guys enjoyed chapter one! It's a bit confusing I know, but it'll make sense. Foreshadowing always wins.


	2. May The Odds Be In Your Favor

A:N/ Yay for new chapter! Sit back and relax! It's going to be a long ride!

Disclaimer: I do not own any SNK characters except for my one OC. The End.

* * *

The sun's mellow coloring of the sky signaled the end of a new day was dawning. Levi had always made it a point to stand at the top of the formidable walls to watch the sun set and Erwin wouldn't question it, even if there were bloody corpses surrounding the rebel leaders, for the trumpet had sounded once again.

Levi closed his eyes, always making a point to remember each of the fallen soldiers and their faces or their last requests as they roared their last call for freedom, yet the blood obscuring their faces seemed to scream much louder to him nowadays.

"Levi, I think it's time we retreat to our headquarters, don't you think?" Erwin suggested, watching Levi's black coat whip violently in the harsh wind.

Levi didn't respond as he silently stared at the sky before him. Erwin closed his eyes in familiar acceptance and turned to look at the remaining soldiers in their army and gave them a sharp nod of dismissal. As the soldiers saluted and left, Erwin turned his attention to the heavily burdened leader with a softened gaze.

"You know, it's not your fault, Levi." Erwin stated calmly, although all he saw was the gruesome stained red ground in his line of vision, his stomach churning at the sight.

"You know the first memory I have of looking at thesky was noticing how _red_ the sun would color it before letting the moon take over the darkeninghorizon," Levi's apathetic voice broke out in the tense silence, he looked down at his hands, the ones that gripped his rusty swords tightly, examining the darkening color of his soldier's blood, "I had thought it was the blood of men that would spray up so high that it colored the skyline signaling the end of a new day. I had thought that the sole reason why I could stand the air within these walls was because the sky was stained with blood. Erwin, I was _fucking _raised in bloodshed. All my life, my first memories, my childhood, everything about me is warfare."

Erwin listened intently, his blue eyes glowing in the dimming sky under his thick, furrowed brows, "Levi…"

Turning abruptly, Levi faced his comrade with his steel gaze, "Erwin, I'm depending on you in the next three days. Come back with proof of what's really going on outside these damn wall," Erwin felt the chill of anticipation run through him just like how the goose bumps rose on his skin at Levi's introduction of the road to victory over the damn government that took away everything from him, "These men," Levi gestured to the corpses that surrounded them with cold and unseeing eyes, "are depending on us."

Erwin nodded sharply, grinding into his chest with a hardplunge. The smell of blood in the air wasn't as horrific to men like them, men who had lost everything in a sea of blood. But they returned, drenched in the vivid colors of war, roaring like untamed beast within their hearts, swearing to take everything back with their stubborn limbs.

Levi must have sensed Erwin's adrenaline because he smirked in return, wide and untamed, as the cold, harsh wind surrounded the two rebels. Erwin watched as the bloody sky faded to jet-black as the stars shone brightly on its canvas.

"We will avenge everything and everyone, Erwin. It just takes time." Levi acknowledged his friend's feelings with a sharp nod which Erwin returned with a small smile.

The sound of hard footsteps coming their way made them turn around, quickly, and they were greeted by their exasperated head doctor, who was bent forward, desperately trying to catch her breath.

"What happened, Hanji?" Erwin asked, alarmed, walking to her side. Levi followed quietly, his narrowed gaze watching her, intently.

Hanji looked up at them, hands trembling from excitement, but her eyes wide in unexplainable horror, "The King…has formally announced a war in three days' time. Do you know what that means, Levi?"

Erwin felt his blood course through his veins in perpetual adrenaline and his heartbeat raced a hundred times faster than before, his eyes looking straight at the parchment in Hanji's hands, and that's when he heard the sound of Levi's sword unsheathed which glared at the three in blazing glory as its owner's smirk reflected upon its surface.

"It's time that bastard finally showed his hand. Such a pity, though, that I have to slice it cleanly off."

* * *

Ayane found her body slamming against the wall with brutal force and she raised herself, slowly, wincing at the pain that coursed through her muscles and the blood that she coughed up and spat on the rocky floor before her.

She grunted as a rough hand dug into her hair and yanked her forward, "We told you to capture Levi, Ayane. But, instead, you decide to come here empty-handed. What do you take us for, huh? We practically raised you and this is how you treat your caretakers?" A gruff voice hissed in her ear and she felt that familiar wetness of the King's saliva fall in her ear and she grimaced in disgust. The King must've taken it as a sign of disobedience because Ayane felt his gloved hand on her cheek in an instant causing her to taste the leftover blood on that damn leather glove that dared to hit her face.

"I told you that your stupid men decided to get cocky and tried to go at him themselves. They were dead by the time I reached those walls, I fucking swear, your _Highness_." Ayane managed to spit out with heavy sarcasm, not caring about the heavy weight man in front of her.

It was rumored that King Garret used to be a handsome man and frighteningly skillful, but all Ayane saw was a monster that had let everything go to his head and feed his ego and stomach.

"Why you little-!" The enraged monarch was stopped by one of his hooded advisors who held the monarch's gloved hand in warning. The King turned to him, angry and proud; his face red with anger and sweat rolled down his robustcheeks as if standing up was such a hassle for him.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, this _girl_ is still a very important asset to us and I find myself obligated to remind you." An advisor stated. Ayane shivered at his pointed glare towards her even though allthe hooded advisors looked the same; maybe that's what chilled her, that there was no sign of _difference_ in this kingdom.

She stood out ever since the beginning.

The King stared hard at the one who stopped him for a moment and sighed, heavily, shoving the advisor's hand away from him, "Then train her to obey _me._ I might have use for her in the future, also." His beady eyes roamed over her body, up and down, and Ayane had to fight the urge to vomit right then and there.

He noticed her discomfort and smiled at her like a king who had won spoils from a war, but Ayane spat blood at him, reminding him that she wasn't a treasure piece but a venomous snake that would kill him if he dared to touch her.

She smiled inwardly at the fear that crossed his eyes as he scowled at her and left in a huff. But, the small victory was short-lived as she found herself being roughly dragged into the dark tunnels of the catacombs that she lived in since she could remember.

"Speak," One of those damn hooded advisors commanded, shoving her against the wall with such force that knocked the wind out of her and she began gasping for air in desperate gulps.

"…I didn't even get to see him. He's protected by powerful men who would sacrifice their very own soul for such a man. Don't you get it? He's not as disposable as our precious king. His very own goal is to _be_ the new king. Were you seriously expecting a weakling? We've been fighting this man for five years now. Are you so blinded by those hoods that you've lost sight of-"

A sharp kick to her gut cut her off abruptly, sending her slamming against the wall, a loud crack echoed in the dark tunnel and her loud grunts followed.

"How dare _you_ talk against your king, Ayane. He's the one who so kindly saved you years ago. Show some respect," one of them hissed, grabbing her chin, his sharp nails marring her soft skin, he let go as he realized that she was still conscious, "But, we hear your reports and we agree that this is no simple man to kill. There are rumors that he's planning to attack in less than three days. Here's your chance, you foolish girl. You must come up with a plan quick or—"

"Let me join him." Her statement was so soft and low that the advisors strained to hear her weak gasp. As one of them motioned to hit her once more, someone held up a hand to restrain him. He bent down to examine her face and he smirked slightly, "Ah, it seems that our precious girl has a plan. In order to beat them, you must join them, am I correct in your logic?"

Ayane nodded, weakly, and groaned at the sudden pain that grasped her forearm. The advisor's claws dug into her skin, dragging his long nails into her right forearm, marring her once beautiful skin, into what looked like thin scars that vertically went up and down, almost resembling small tree branches that reached the middle of her arm.

"Take this mark as a reminder, Ayane, for failing us _this _time. The next time won't be as pleasant." He warned her, letting go of her arm with a loud hiss, signaling the others to walk away from the heavily wounded girl.

As the last one left, Ayane forced herself to sit up straight, slowly, looking up at the dimly lit sky above her, noticing the sun was beginning to rise.

She closed her eyes, embracing the pain that shot throughout her body, for it will only last a moment.

Then, she will be free.

* * *

Mikasa had searched all night for her brother, jumping from tree branch to tree branch, skillfully trying not to use her 3DMG.

The trumpet had stopped sounding.

Her heart had started beating, quickly, and her mouth was dry with anxiety as she trained her eyes to get used to the darkening sky and now the sky's warm greeting of morning in the lightest blue greeted her and she quickened her momentum.

That's when her sharp nose smelled blood.

Thinking of the worst scenario, she jumped down from the trees and landed expertly on the ground, running as fast as she could to the area she had targeted.

Her grey eyes darkened as she made out the familiar green cloak of her brother's on the dirt ground. Picking up the clothing, she stared at the dirt that stained it and the sticky substance that rendered her speechless. Placing her finger on it and rubbing it between her forefingers, she dropped the cloak in shock.

Blood.

With a sharp intake, Mikasa bent down to inspect any footprints or any sign of someone crawling or walking. _There!_

Noticing the indented dirt in certain areas, Mikasa followed the trail quickly, praying that Eren was okay. He was the only family she had left next to Grisha Jaeger, but she remembered the last cryptic promise that he had made her promisehim once more, "_Take care of Eren."_

_Mikasa looked up at him from brandishing her swords in curiosity, "Of course I will," she reassured her adopted father with a vigilant grin, but Grisha's beady eyes remained serious and had some far-off haziness. _

"_Mikasa, you do remember why you're fighting?" He had asked her, randomly, seeming to be in the mood for talking rather than their usual training._

_Mikasa nodded, warily, her gaze questioning but she answered, obediently, "I fight so no one close to me will ever die again." _

_She had risked that answer. Before, it had been "because we need to win this war." Grisha was a man of rigid stature and disciplined honor, and he had been proud of her answer time and time again, yet Mikasa felt like answering what her heart had been truly believing all along. _

_Because his eyes were more sincere today since her adopted mother passed away._

_Grisha didn't respond or answer in a way she had expected, he had patted her head and gave her a little smile, "A selfish answer, but nonetheless, it's as honest as can be."_

_Mikasa didn't understand him at all, but he had expressed his sincere compliance with her answer so she didn't ask him what he meant and had begun her training exercises as usual._

_Even though he fiddled with something in his pocket the entire time._

Mikasa gripped her sword's handles tightly; sneaking in the forest like a black panther would stalk its prey. That's when she spotted an unconscious body among the dark dirt and she rushed forward, not sensing any presence.

Her heart sunk as she realized what was branded on the poor body's back: The King's insignia.

The bastard would place his insignia on his victims, declaring this person as a rebel against his 'peaceful' kingdom, and leave his mark for anyone who passed by as a warning and to shame the dead even in the afterlife.

Mikasa closed her eyes, quelling the anger that rose within her heart at the sight of the gruesome mark of three large crooked linesrunning across the corpse's back. Sighing, she turned the body to give the person a proper burial, but she froze at her recognition of the man.

Grisha Jaeger, the royal doctor, the man who had hid rebels underneath his house, the man who believed in justice and encouraged his children to do the same, and the man who had taken her under his wing the moment she was orphaned as a babe, was dead.

Hot tears rolled down her pale face in horror and she immediately covered her mouth to stop herself from vomiting and screaming.

How could this happen? How? Why? Who? How dare they?

The never-ending questions screamed in her mind and her eyes grew wide in madness and despair.

_Mikasa, never let your temper get the best of you. Remember, there are always silver linings in cloudy skies._

The memory of years of training under his tutelage immediately began to work in the turmoil of her mind and she wiped her tears away, clumsily.

_Remember, there is no such thing as mourning in warfare._

Gathering her bearings, Mikasa looked around for any sign of survivors or just a presence and that's when she saw an unusual pile of leaves seemingly moving and she moved towards it slowly.

Pushing the leaves away and grabbing the stranger underneath by their collar, Mikasa pushed the man against a tree trunk, her eyes calculating the fact that the person was a man of normal body mass and quickly examining the weak points of hismuscles—

"M-Mikasa?" The sound of Eren's choking voice broke through her thoughts and she dropped him on his buttocks, immediately.

"Eren! You're okay!" Mikasa said, in relief, throwing her strong arms around him and pulling him in a tight hug.

"Of course, I'm okay! What happened? What's going on?" Eren asked, his voice still sounded out of it and his groans of pain were not unheard by her.

"You ran into the forest, remember? You said you were going to fight with Levi Ackerman and his troops and—Eren?" Mikasa stopped midsentence, noticing the color of Eren's face drain away.

"…Dad, I remember seeing Dad. Did you see him?" Eren croaked out, his eyes frantic at the fragments of memory he could manage to come up with as he grasped his head tightly.

Mikasa's body dropped down next to him at the memory of seeing Grisha, lifeless with his beady eyes wide open in horror and desperation.

"Eren…" Mikasa didn't even have to say anything because as soon as Eren looked up, he saw his father's eyes, a few feet away from him, staring at him with haunting desperation.

Scrambling to get up, Eren ran towards his father's body, skidding on his knees as he came to a full stop before the corpse, and cradling the head while tears streamed down his face. His cries as loud as Mikasa's heart shattering into pieces at the scene. She walked towards them, slowly, and tried to put a hand on Eren's shoulder.

He brushed it away forcefully, still rocking back and forth. A few moments passed by before Eren completely calmed down and he shifted his head, noticing the brand on his father's back. Mikasa watched as Eren's usual vibrant green eyes darkened.

"…I always knew what you and Dad were up to in the basement." Eren's void voice shocked Mikasa and she opened her mouth to respond or defend, but Eren's dark chuckle interrupted her, "I knew that no matter what Dad said about the king, he hated him, even if he was the royal doctor or even the king's fucking favorite, I knew. I could see it in his eyes."

Eren looked up at Mikasa at this point, his eyes expressionless and dark, "You're a disguised assassin who is supposed to be under the king when he needs you, Mikasa, yet in truth, you're not, you're simply waiting for your orders to create strife within the corrupt kingdom. You've been training for years now, haven't you?"

Mikasa stared at those soulless orbs before nodding, truthfully, stunned by the sudden revelation.

Eren sighed, sharply, "You and Dad would never let me be part of your plans. So, I decided I wanted to be part of Levi Ackerman's group, the ones who didn't hide in the shadows, he's accepting to anyone who wants to join the cause, so I wanted to prove you and Dad wrong."

"Eren…Dad didn't want you to know because he wanted to protect you. You have to know that." Mikasa pleaded with her brother, trying to show him that they wanted to keep him safe.

Eren shook his head, his eyes now filling with rage, "You don't get it, Mikasa! I could've been a great asset! I could've prevented…_this._" He pointed at his father's body with trembling hands.

Mikasa closed her eyes, letting Eren's anger wash over her calm demeanor in understanding.

"Tell me. Did the King call for you yet? To take place in his army? To kill anyone?" Eren asked, his voice beginning to sound eerily calm.

"No, not yet. Father mentioned that there will be a war in three days yesterday, but that's all I know." Mikasa answered, feeling relieved yet burdened at the same time as she stared at the corpse next to her.

He was supposed to tell her when she could fight, but now, he's dead, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

"Train me as much as you can in the three days." Eren's determined voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Eren…" Mikasa trailed off as Eren stood up, angrily, staring into her wide eyes with his own determined gaze.

"Let's bring the King hell. He took everything from us, Mikasa. Let's take him down to the flames. But, first, we need to sneak you into the King's army in three days' time." Eren stated, his eyes returning to his father's corpse.

Mikasa didn't respond as she looked down and stared at the familiar three ugly marks of the King's insignia, feeling a foreign sensation creep into her skin.

She could take the training, calculations, and lessons of the kingdom she had been raised in. She had accepted the fact that her King was evil and vile and had watched how he tortured people in order for her to fuel the desire to protect her adopted father who had to stand silently by the King's side with such a stoic expression. But, just one look at the body of a loved one on the ground, one who she failed to protect, that's when it finally hit her.

It was war.

She had never felt so burdened in her life.

* * *

Armin never quite understood Eren and Mikasa's capabilities to fight, for he had always been a weak child; he stayed indoors while the other kids played outside in the warm summer days as kids. Eren and Mikasa would simply come over and keep him company as his pudgy little hands flipped through thick dusty volumes of the outside world in where there lived an Old Kingdom, known for their bravery to defeat and survive the unknown, yet the kids in the town mocked them for believing such stories, saying it's stupid or naive of them to think that there was anything beyond here that would be any different.

It frustrated Armin to no end because have they _tried_ to go outside of the walls. There was simply no explanation of why they were even caged in in the first place. Ever since Armin could remember, he asked his grandfather countless of times, "_Grandpa, why do we live inside of these walls?"_

_His grandpa would look at him, mischief twinkling in his eyes, "Because mankind wants to feel protected and not threatened by anyone or anything. They want to be able to live in care-free bliss, never having to worry about the unknown."_

_Armin pouted at that, "That's silly! What if the unknown is much better than our walls?"_

_His grandpa chuckled, mussing the blonde's short hair a bit, "That, my boy, is why they don't even bother."_

Armin had never understood why the townspeople didn't care about going outside, weren't they bored by such simple themes of life? To have no longing for adventure, were they too content with their lives to move forward?

Were they that pitiful and cowardly to not express any insight of living behind boring shields?

He had brought that point up to his grandfather on his death bed and his grandfather had replied with a simple answer that Armin was determined to break the barriers that the humans hid so foolishly behind.

_"Yes, son, I'm afraid I'm one of those people who would rather hide behind boring shields then bother with the thought of living in risky lands."_

But, that's not what bothered Armin the most, why would they consider it hiding if they don't even know what lays beyond? And that's when he realized that mankind knew that there was something out there and it was not because of simple intuition or a lucky guess.

It was because of a man who dared to raise walls as high as his power and ego that made his people believe that there was something to hide from.

When in reality, the people should hide from their own beloved king, King Garret the Powerful.

* * *

A:N/ Chapter One finished! Hope you all enjoyed! Still in developmental stage for right now and I hope everything is starting to intensify for you all! More characters will be introduced along the way and I can't wait for you all to grab that popcorn and start munching!

SHOUTOUT TO THE GREATEST EDITOR EVER: aquariana!3


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